Where There's Smoke
by morning.chickenhead
Summary: AU Pamela calls on Sam's help to help solve the mystery of an old office building where all the employees have died of smoke inhalation-with no fire in sight. Meanwhile, a dark and troubled Sam becomes her project-what is really on his angry mind? PlsR


**Where There's Smoke...**

(Takes place in an Alternate Universe where Pamela has met Sam and Dean and had her eyes burnt out _before_ Dean is in hell. While Dean is away in hell, Pamela calls on Sam's help to help solve the mystery of an old office building where all the employees died of smoke inhalation...with no fire in sight. Meanwhile, a dark and troubled Sam becomes her project...what is really on his angry mind?)

**Just Teasing**

Feeling the bed shifting, Sam forced his droopy eyelids open and let his pupils quickly dilate toward the dark. He shrugged and rolled over when he realized it was just Ruby, getting up and getting dressed. She made a habit of disappearing into the dark after their sexual escapades, but she rarely did so without him noticing.

"So I'll call you then?" Sam asked dryly as his eyes strayed to the bright neon lights shining in the motel-room window.

He grinned a little smile of satisfaction when the rustling stopped, knowing she had probably jumped at the sound of his voice. She always thought she could fly under his radar. But he was getting to know – in some ways, unfortunately – everything about her. He even fancied he knew just what she was going to say in reply...

"Sam, you know I'm an 'I'll-call-you' kind of gal." Yup, the uninspiring reverse irony that was so characteristic of her almost lispy speech patterns. Still without turning toward her, he imagined the backpack being slung over her shoulder in attempted non-chalance.

"Don't bother until you have something a little more challenging to offer me than what you brought tonight." Sam felt a dark serpent tongue licking up the back of his throat as he spoke. The heart, the conscience of the old Sam chided him, but he brushed it off. He wouldn't treat a real woman this way, he insisted. Ruby was a good fuck, and he had other uses for her as well. And there was absolutely no reason to feel bad about it. The closer he got to Ruby, the more distance that grew between them. This sick state of affairs signalled to Sam one thing: that Ruby had her _own _reasons for propping him up.

And for _getting_ him up. His smirk re-materialized. Dean had thought he was such a stud...if only he knew.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ah, predictable Ruby. He could always count on a blow to her ego convincing her to stick around a little longer. He bet she was pursing her lips right this moment.

And he took the opportunity to spin himself in the air in one swift movement, landing with a hand holding up his chin. He found that she was, indeed, pinching those thin little lips together.

"C'mon, Ruby, you know what I'm talking about." Sam rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to a sitting position, making a point to cover that one sensitive area with a just a sheet. "You're getting too easy. Too easy to get in the sack, too easy to make come everywhere. If you want to make me into a real man, why don't you give me a little more to work with?"

"How do you know I'm not faking it?" Ruby demanded, looking away with a huff.

"If anyone knows it, _I_ know you're a good actress, Rube. But no one is _that_ good."

She swivelled her eyes back to steadily hold his gaze. "Is this conversation actually going somewhere? Because I have more important places to be."

"Then be gone, Lady of the Night!" Sam cried out in mock grandeur, flourishing his hands around the sheet-covered area. Then he snapped them up in the air, wiggled his fingers, and sang, "Ta da!" in pointed reference to a telling bulge that had appeared in that spot.

"Talk about too easy," Ruby muttered. "See you 'round, Sam."

Sam snickered to himself as the door slammed behind. What a devil. He enjoyed provoking her. What else did he have to amuse himself with besides blood, sex, and continually proving to himself that he was stronger than a real demon?

A ring from his phone, coupled with a buzz that propelled it across the table, foretold of another possible source of entertainment. He pounced on it, now having abandoned the sheet altogether. He ran his fingers over the finely developed muscles of his chest as he answered. "Yo."

"Sam? Is that you?"

A woman's voice! This might be even better than he expected.

But as he gradually came to recognize the voice's source, he gulped in nervous, rather than eager, anticipation.

"Sam, you drive a woman mad. Why won't you answer me?"

A much milder version of the old Sam suddenly jumped into the skin of Ruby's lover, Ruby's hater. "Um, hi Pamela." Another gulp. Like a little grammar school boy talking to his crush on the phone!

"Listen, Sam, I need your help. Do you think you can get here within 24 hours?"

"Erm, yeah, Pamela, of course. Anything for you."

A generous laugh ensued from her side of the line. "Can't wait to 'see' you, Grumpy!"

"Eeyeah..." Sam's heart thumped anxiously. Now there was a woman who made him feel completely inadequate sexually. But he suspected her teasing was all in fun, and there was something else about her that made him nervous. That something else being her psychic powers, in particular...She knew too much about him. She knew things that even Sam didn't know about himself.

One thing was sure, he thought, as he pulled on his jeans and buttoned them. This would be an interesting encounter.


End file.
